That Night

by Lynn, K. I.

  “What do I do?”

  “Oh, hell, yes,” Jenna said when her gaze hit the dress I’d worn on New Year’s Eve. She picked it up and brushed the other one to the side, barely looking at it. Not that she hadn’t seen it before—I’d worn it to the office Christmas party.

  “Not too much?”

  She shook her head. “Totally fitting, but it reminds me…I can’t believe you got pregnant on New Year’s Eve!”

  A chuckle left me. “I still can’t believe you hooked up with Brent. One second you were dancing with Keenan, the next you’re all over Brent.”

  “You were getting frisky upstairs with the man. It was a party, and Brent was there to dance. Keenan found a girl of his own. Plus, Brent is stupid tall and he can man handle my body in the best ways.” Her eyes glazed over, a lopsided grin completing the dazed look.

  “Almost everyone is stupid taller than us,” I reminded her. There was only an inch separating us, and we were both at the bottom barrel of five feet.

  “And just think how Richard is going to throw you around. You said he’s jacked.”

  I froze, my mouth dropping open. “He picked me up and pinned me to the wall like it was nothing.” My body lit up at the memory and the implications of what the night could provide.

  “That’s what I’m talking about!”

  “But this is our first official date. At least I think it is. What if I’m reading too much into tonight? What if he just wants to talk about the baby?” I asked, worry washing over me. When was the last time I’d been so nervous over a first date?

  She rolled her eyes and sat me down. “If he wanted to do that, he’d just come over and you’d order in. The man is getting reservations on the biggest date night of the year. He’s doing the whole wooing thing. That tells me he wants more than sex or to talk about the bun in your oven. Though with the way you two were getting down that night, I have a feeling you’ll still end up rocking it between the sheets.”

  “With the way we kissed in the conference room? That’s a pretty safe bet.” The memory alone sent a wave of heat through me.

  “In no time you’ll be in love, with a cute little baby bump and fighting over names.”

  The picture she painted made my chest clench. In the days since I learned I was pregnant, an overwhelming feeling of oh, shit had prevailed, and I couldn’t think about anything else. I figured Jenna could help me over the weekend, but then there he was, and that spark was still there, a burning ember that burst into a scorching inferno the moment we touched.

  It took a half hour for Jenna to do my hair before she disappeared to finish getting ready for her own date night. Her makeup and hair were flawless as always, and I had been with her the previous weekend when she bought a little red dress that she swore seemed modest but would allow Brent a little peep show from above.

  Once she was gone, the nerves kicked in. My stomach fluttered with butterflies. I was in the middle of questioning my dress decision again when the doorbell rang. I picked up my clutch and coat on my way to the door. My heartbeat picked up with each step and my hands began to shake as my nerves revved into overdrive.

  I blew out a breath before twisting the handle and pulling the door open.

  Richard stood on my front stoop looking stunningly handsome. He was wearing a different suit than earlier and I was very excited to find out what was underneath.

  The corner of his mouth drew up before exploding into a full-blown smile. “Very nice.”

  “You think?” I asked before looking down at the silver fabric. “I figured we never got to finish that night.”

  He nodded as he stepped forward. Once he was in range, his arm slipped around my waist and he tugged me to him.

  “You got the rest of the stain out,” he said as he trailed his fingers over my chest, dipping between my breasts with one finger.

  “Yes,” I said, noticing how low my voice had become. No matter the situation, once again, in seconds, sexual tension exploded between us.

  The inches that separated us disappeared. Goosebumps erupted on my skin, his fingers trailing across my collarbone. His thumb brushed against my neck before hooking my jaw and tilting my head back. The breath tumbling from my lips became staggered and I reached up, my palm resting against his chest.

  “You have no idea how much I’ve dreamt about this dress. Especially the view of it on my floor.”

  “What about me?”

  His lips ghosted mine. “I think it’s pretty obvious how much I’ve dreamt of you. In the dress. Out of the dress. Looking up at you from between your thighs.” I drew in a sharp breath when he nipped at my jaw. “How fucking good it felt inside you.”

  I clenched my fingers, gathering the fabric of his jacket. All the weeks, the unnecessary heartache, and it felt like none of it had happened. Like we were right back in that crowded hall, lost in our own little bubble.

  “Get a room!” a voice yelled from the parking lot, startling us both.

  My head snapped to find Jenna hanging out the passenger window of a car, Brent behind the steering wheel, his palm popping the horn as they pulled up to wait for us to say hello.

  Richard cleared his throat and stepped back so that I could pass through, making sure to lock the door.

  “Jenna,” Richard said with a wave.

  I swore I could see a rosy color spread on his cheeks as he laughed at her.

  I pulled my coat on, then slipped my hand in Richard’s and we headed down the sidewalk to Brent’s car.

  “Have fun, you two,” I said as I kissed her cheek.

  “You too, babe. Keep in touch. If I don’t hear from you by Sunday night, I’m coming over.”

  “You better bring food.” I had a feeling I would need it.

  “Breakfast for dinner?” she asked.

  I nodded. “Perfect.”

  With that, they headed off and we walked to the only car in the parking lot with Illinois license plates—a black Acura RDX.

  “Breakfast for dinner?” he asked as he held the door open for me.

  “It’s just this silly Sunday ritual we do,” I explained.

  He chuckled before shutting the door.

  I drew in a breath, trying hard to control the crazy-person smile I could feel plastered on my face. He was everything I remembered.

  The entire way to the restaurant I couldn’t help but constantly glance over at her. In that dress, it was like we were picking right back up, like the last six weeks hadn’t even passed.

  Six weeks that I pined for her thinking she’d blown me off, but it was my own stupidity. I thanked that little voice that told me not to delete the contact, because that was my only saving grace. That evidence took her from standoffish to melting in my arms.

  And now she was sitting in my car in that motherfucking dress. The one I’d clumsily spilled her drink on, then promptly shoved my hand down.

  It was possibly the most idiotic move I’d ever made, but also the best.

  Still, that dress did things to me. It represented weeks of fantasies, and was a reminder of how I had felt that night. How much I loved that night. How captivated I was.

  “Have I told you how much I love that dress?”

  Her lips pulled up into that blinding smile, making her light brown eyes sparkle. “I chose wisely. I did notice you checking me out. Repeatedly.”

  “Is there a problem with that?”

  She gave a little hum, then winked at me. Fucking winked. All I wanted to do was stop, pull her onto my lap, and continue where we left off just after midnight.

  Did we have to go to dinner?

  Yes, asshole, you do. There are things to talk about. Like this whole baby business.

  Baby.

  It was my fault. I couldn’t stop in time. I didn’t want to. All of my strength went to pulling out of her, but it wasn’t fast enough.

  Drunk on my need for her, I had irrevocably altered our futures. The only bad thing was that it was a fluke that I found her again. Not knowing I had
a child was a sickening thought, especially one with my very own Cinderella.

  When driving down on Thursday for an all-day meeting on Friday, the idea of possibly running into her sat in the back of my mind, but in a city of over one million I didn’t have high hopes. Still, I couldn’t stop myself from staring at every face, searching her out.

  I never expected her to work for the same company, to be a subordinate.

  Her eyes widened when we pulled into the parking lot of Eddie Merlot’s.

  “How did you get a reservation here?”

  “I sold my soul to the devil,” I answered with a smirk as I found a parking spot near the back.

  “Seriously.”

  I grinned at her. “I have my ways.” Thank you, Keenan! He may not play football anymore, but he still had some favors, and he used one with the manager for me.

  I exited the car and ran around to open her door. She took my hand, but her eyes were narrowed on me, a smirk playing on her lips. “You’re not going to tell me?”

  “A man has to keep some of his secrets.”

  The interior was as crowded as the parking lot, but thankfully the area around the hostess stand only held a few couples waiting to be seated.

  “Hmm, maybe I should have worn the black dress,” she said as she glanced around.

  “No.”

  “No?”

  I shook my head. “Hell, no.”

  I gave the hostess my name, and another appeared around the podium with menus in hand to lead us through the overcrowded space. We weaved through the throng of tables and people, coats and waiters, until we arrived at a square corner table. A tent card with the word Reserved sat on the red tablecloth, along with a glass vase that held a single red rose.

  Nice touch, Keenan. I’d have to thank him for that later.

  The wide-eyed awe on her face was worth every favor I probably owed him now.

  I helped her out of her coat and pulled the chair out for her before removing my own coat. Instead of sitting across from her, I chose the seat on the same corner to be closer.

  “Okay, I think I have it,” she said. I quirked a brow and waited. “You already had this reservation to bring some girl who was not me, because you knew you would be here for Valentine’s Day.”

  “What happened to the other girl?” I asked, poking holes in her illogical guess.

  “You dumped her or canceled, saying you couldn’t make it because of work.”

  I’d almost forgotten how inquisitive she was. “Interesting theory, and totally plausible, but no. And here I thought you could read me better.”

  She pursed her lips, and I had to stop myself from leaning over and nipping at her succulent bottom lip.

  “It’s the situation. The busiest restaurant night of the year, and you were able to snag a reserved table?” She narrowed her gaze at me again. “What don’t I know?”

  Her unrelenting questions were something I remembered from that first night. And I had to admit, I liked that aspect of her personality.

  “There is a lot you don’t know, just as there is a lot I don’t know about you.”

  “Good evening,” the waiter said, silencing us. “How are you two doing this evening?”

  “Great. You?” Natasha asked, her attention on the man in front of us. I could tell it wasn’t some flippant playback response. It was more than just politeness, and the smile that formed on his face let me know he appreciated it.

  “Excellent. What can I get you to drink tonight?”

  “A glass of Merlot,” she said, then froze. “Wait, I’m sorry. Can I get a Sprite?”

  “No problem. And for you?” He looked to me, but I was stuck staring at her. Before her order, I still couldn’t believe it was real, that maybe I’d misunderstood, but changing her drink confirmed it. Solidified it.

  “Bourbon. Neat.” I finally got out.

  She blew out a breath when he left. “I really wanted that glass of wine. I need it.”

  “You really are pregnant,” I said in awe. I was going to be a father.

  She nodded. “Trust me, I’ve been wrestling with that little bit of information for days.”

  “When did you find out?” I asked as I opened up the menu. It was a way to disguise my nervousness about the topic.

  How long had she known? What had she gone through thinking she’d never find me? We never even exchanged last names that night because we thought there would be more time, and I felt terrible she found out alone.

  “Wednesday.”

  Forty-eight hours. Not too much damage done, but I counted my lucky stars fate brought us back together.

  I would process my new title later, but now I needed more of her. “I guess it’s time for a crash course of getting to know you.”

  “Twenty questions?” she asked, folding the menu and placing it down in front of her.

  “Yes.”

  She pursed her lips again, and again I had to restrain myself from leaning in. It seemed that was a quirk of hers when she was thinking, a mannerism I filed away.

  “Ever been married?”

  Right to the heart of things. The woman I met that night always went straight in, and that hadn’t changed.

  The waiter returned with our drinks, and I took a large sip before replying. “Yes. Divorced for seven years now.”

  “What happened?” she asked.

  My leg began to bounce. Flashes of memories popped up, betrayal flaring in my chest. “Married young, right out of undergrad. Just didn’t work out in the end. Divorced by twenty-nine and married to my job ever since.”

  She quirked a brow at me. “Don’t hold back.”

  “What?”

  “Why did you get divorced?”

  I studied her, trying to find out if there was a way I could get out of answering, though I already knew the answer. She’d read me, knew there was more I wasn’t telling her. “You’ll beat everything out of me, won’t you?”

  She shrugged and smiled. “I did that night, did you think that would change?”

  I shook my head. “No, but some things aren’t easy for me to talk about.”

  “It was messy, then?”

  My reluctance only brought more probing. She was going to dig it out of me, and while not normally first-date conversation material, the baby growing inside her was proof of a future between us no matter what happened.

  Just rip it off, Rick.

  “I loved her, and she smiled and kissed me and told me how much she loved me while she was having an affair with my best friend. For years.”

  Her mouth popped open. “Oh, Richard.” She reached out and placed her hand on mine. “That’s terrible.”

  The scars ran deep, and I swallowed as I sat back, my hand slipping from under hers. I hated talking about them, and all it made me want to do was get the fuck away from the conversation.

  She reached forward and took my hand again. “Don’t.”

  I blew out a breath and leaned forward. “I’m sorry. I’m not good at emotions.” Not the deep kind at least, the kind that bared my soul.

  “And so you shut down?”

  Is that what I’d done? “Call it a defense mechanism.”

  She linked her fingers with mine so that I couldn’t get away. “You don’t have to defend yourself from me.”

  I furrowed my brow. She was the most dangerous person in the world to me. “Don’t I? You woke something up inside me, something deep, and then I couldn’t find you. You think I was a tyrant in that office today? Imagine my office for the last month.”

  “So, I made an impression?”

  An impression?

  I stared at her. An impression was a mild descriptor of the chaos I’d felt since meeting her. I shook my head. “No.”

  Her eyes tightened, and she began to turn from me but I stopped her. I cupped her face, my thumb running against her bottom lip.

  “You were a full-blown collision,” I said with as much conviction as I could convey. She was so much more than a mere impre
ssion. “And I’m still reeling from the aftershocks. Nothing in my life has been right since that night, Natasha.”

  She drew in a ragged breath, the wetness clearing from her eyes. She held up her glass. “Here’s to new beginnings.”

  I smiled and picked up my own drink. “New beginnings.” I tapped my glass to hers and we both took a sip. “Next question.”

  There was that purse of the lips again, and I couldn’t help but lift her hand to my lips and place a kiss to her knuckles.

  She watched with rapt attention, her bottom lip now secure between her teeth.

  “So?”

  She blinked and cleared her throat. “I feel like we have this May-December thing going on. How old are you?”

  May-December? What was that? “What do you mean?”

  “You’re high up the corporate ladder, and you didn’t just suddenly get the position. I mean, I’ve been at it for five years and I just made it to supervisor level.”

  I chuckled and nodded in understanding. “Thirty-six.”

  “Just growing into your sexiness. Nice.” She winked at me, which made me chuckle.

  The waiter interrupted us then for our order, and I was enraptured watching her interact with him. She was so personable and charming, and somehow I knew she didn’t think that of herself, despite the confidence I’d seen.

  When he got to me, I hadn’t even really looked at what was available, but the steak and lobster was always a good answer.

  “How much am I robbing the cradle?” I asked once he was gone again. The calculation my brain had already done based on the limited information I had pegged her at close to thirty, but not quite. She had a youthfulness about her, but that could have also simply been her personality.

  “Not as much as that crease in your forehead thinks.” She reached up and smoothed out the space between my eyes with her thumb. “I’m twenty-eight.”

  I took hold of her wrist, keeping it close as I leaned into my palm. “See? Perfect.” I pressed my lips to the inside of her wrist.

  “Any siblings, Mr. Perfect?”

  “Younger sister. You?”

  “Two testosterone-filled pains in my ass. One older, one younger.”